The other side of the story
by KimmyTheKitten
Summary: "History is written by the victor" AU. One Shot came from the phrase. Harry/Hermione.


Everyone holds their breath as the courtroom doors open, admitting several aurors from different countries, a single dementor and finally the one man that people fear more than Voldemort before him..

Standing at an impressive 5'11, the tailor made silk suit did little to hide the powerful body that is hidden beneath. Black acromantula silk with an emerald green lining, tailored into a muggle suit along with black leather boots working well with Sharp emerald eyes and jet black hair, though a couple of people frown at the sight of silver stands on the 27 year olds head.

Several people flinch when the Dark Lord gives a shark like smile, revealing sharpened teeth before stepping to the prisoners chair, only a couple truly realizing that the male is leaning on a cane for assistance.

The chief warlock, Albus Dumbledore, looks down sadly at the boy he failed to save from the dark path before banging his gravel to start the session. "Welcome mi lords and ladies to the 364th session, this has been called by the prisoner as a last request, having been tried in absentia and found guilty, sentenced to death via the Veil in the DoM."

Everyone looks curiously at the dead man walking, wondering why he would ask this. A soft smirk touches his lips as he stretches his legs out, rubbing his knee. "History is written by the victor of any conflict. The question you must ask, is who is the real victor of the conflict I instigated?" He looks around curiously, the smirk still on his face as the predictable response sounds out from the stand, ginger hair prominent.

"Your the one that lost Potter." Ronald snarled from the stand. "You will soon die and your dark plans will fail." Everyone who wasn't looking at the red head noticed the smile growing on the prisoners face.

"And that one statement shows your ignorance of the world Weasley." The red head is subsequently dismissed as Harry looks around the room. "How many of you have any clue as to what my goals were, hmm? None of you have any clue, you just assumed that I took up Riddles place and continued his work." A soft chuckle escapes his lips, quickly turning to a cough which he smothers. "Not even close, I am not looking to rule the wizarding world, I am not looking to have men and women on their knees before me."

"Then why start this war if that wasn't your goal, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, trying desperately to understand the motive behind the war of the last 4 years. A strange feeling started in his chest when Harry smiled coldly at him.

Harry stands up slowly, using his cane to steady himself before he starts unbuttoning his shirt. "war? This was no war. War requires sides that have people, support, a goal, the desire to rule. This conflict was always going to end in one of three ways. the first is I die in battle, my forces would vanish and everyone would wonder. The second is this, I get captured, my forces vanish and I am sentenced to death. The third... The third.." He looks at everyone and removes his shirt and jacket, showing his toned and muscled chest, black lines traveling up his arms and stomach towards his neck. "The third is that I am dying anyway, that I would have simply vanished."

Several members of the Old families gasp at the sight of the marks on his chest, looking at him in a new light, having never thought he would dabble in the old ways.

"Dying?" Several of the less educated members asked before Dumbledore bangs his gravel to get the group under control.

"Yes, Dying. I have been dying since before I started all of this." A low groan slips through his lips as he sits back down, sitting his cane over his lap while resting an ankle on the opposite knee. "Those in the audience that don't know their history will only consider marriage vows to say 'Till death do you part'. The Old families however with remember the original vow being 'Not even death will separate you'." A chuckle escapes his lips at the flabbergasted looks he can see."As you can guess, my wife was quite happy to use the Old ways despite her muggleborn status."

Dumbledore frowned as he looked at the lines, running Harry's statements through his head before speaking. "You say this was no war. What do you call it then?"

"Training... Trials... Preparation...A Promise."

Everyone pauses as they try to understand that statement, very few noticing the satisfied smirk on his lips.

"I look around me in this room and people expect me to be disappointed, expect me to rage." He shakes his head softly, his eyes looking at each of the Aurors."Not even close. I am proud, delighted at what I see. Why? Because it is a sigh of my true victory."

Everyone looked at the Aurors in confusion while Harry focuses on Dumbledore." You ask me why? You all remember what it was like at the beginning of the last war; we had a disgrace of a Minister, an appalling Auror force, no connection to any other Ministry, no help. The hopes of the world was put on My shoulders, on the shoulders of a 16 year old." A snort escapes his lips as he looks around. "Honestly, it was shameful to even be connected to the British magical people." He shakes his head and stretches with a groan." We lost a lot of good people, but we won, as hollow as it was."

"Then what?"

His face lost the cool and confident look as his voice finally raises. "Nothing! No improvements, no new training, no new connections. The darkness was gone, so everyone went back to their lives and nobody learned a DAMN THING." a snarl escapes his lips. "From their mistakes."

Everyone watches as he pauses and takes a deep breath to calm again, regaining the confident mask. "I gave up, I made a promise that I wouldn't help the next time a Darkness threatens the peace you all seemed so determined to cling to." He collapses back into the chair, twisting the gold band on his finger. "Then that fateful night, it seems so long ago yet haunts my dreams just as brightly. My wife, my darling Hermione, she had missed an anniversary dinner. While unexpected, it wasn't that surprising, she always did get lost in her work. I had just started cleaning the table when her body was port-keyed into the house, crashing onto the table. she was naked, cuts and bruises littering her body, a Loki talisman around her neck which let the port-key get through the walls."

A low, mournful howl slips through his lips quietly, his wolf animagus settling close to the surface. It turns into a growl as he looks at everyone in the stands. "The fools that did it made one mistake, her eyes were open and intact." Understanding flares into the eyes of the Aurors, realizing what he did. "_oculi memoriae, _a spell used by Aurors when there are no witnesses but is not admissible in court, which is why I never bothered to bring it to the useless government that ruled."

He stands up and waves his hand at the blank wall, the Dark Mark forming on the wall. "Every single one of you will recognize this mark, it is also what was on the arm of all 35 members of the group that killed my wife." He stares disgustedly at the group before he asks, his voice dripping in sarcasm. "Wonder how they escaped? Oh wait, they didn't need to, they were released without trial, without charges, and free from prosecution."

A sigh escapes his lips as he collapses back into the chair before rubbing his chest, absently tracing the mark closest to his heart. "Naturally, I wanted revenge, but half of the group were members of the government, if some of that group started vanishing, they would realize who I was targeting and go to ground, dragging this conflict on longer that I had to give. What I needed, was a cover." A smirk touches his lips as he stretches back. "I saw an opportunity, my wife wanted unity in the magical world, wanted a competent government. I decided to use my cover for revenge to give her what she wanted.

He stands as he laughs loudly, his arms held out towards the Aurors. "Look around you, Aurors from every country, every Ministry, working together." He stalks around the room, waving a hand to the stands. "Politicians. The slimiest, dirty, backstabbing and most self serving group you could ever hope to meet, working together, having conversations, having connections, joined Ministries."

He stops in front of the head of the DMLE, his grasped hands behind him. "Tell me, how many Aurors have died during this conflict?" A smirk touches his lips, telling everyone he knows exactly how many.

"Zero."

"Exactly, because there is no point killing them when your objective is to get them improved, actually able to fight and fight well." He nods to the man and keeps stalking around, looking at the warriors around him. "Every curse fired by my side was painful, humiliating and temporarily crippling, no doubt about it. But not a single one was lethal; After every battle, the Aurors were put in st Mungos, made to think, they had nothing to do but think about the battle, think about what went wrong, where they screwed up." He smiles proudly as he looks around, standing tall and proud in the middle.

"And every time, they came out with new ideas, new strategies, and most importantly, new and renewed determination. To get better, to defeat the enemy, to be the best."

Dumbledore rubs his eyes as a headache builds, the picture he had been missing was being painted before him. "The civilians, what about all of the innocent deaths due to the raids of your forces?"

He smiles and stretches as he looks around, curious about the pandemonium he is about to cause. "Since this conflict has started, a total of 35 people have died, none of them innocent." A chuckle escapes his lips as he looks around at the shouting, many wishing they hadn't had to give up their wands before entering.

An entire minute passed before Dumbledore could get everyone under control so he could speak, his voice cold. "Explain."

Instead of answering, his spreads his arms, a pair of green triangles on his wrists, a flash of confused understanding crosses blue eyes before they flash up to emerald green. "You recognize these, don't you? these marks, a sign that the person who bares these is powering a Fidelius charm."

"Now I am not one to brag, but I am very powerful, magically speaking." A shrug touches his shoulders as he lowers his arms. "When this conflict began, I knew that civilians would get in the way, had to get in the way to make this believable. I found an abandoned island, hid it under the Fidelius charm and had a facility built, looked after by a large number of house elves. Every civilian that was captured during a raid was put into a magically induced coma, restrictive bracelets placed on so that they couldn't be found, of course if they were bonded like I was, using the Old way, special bracelets were used to prevent them being tracked but letting enough magic through so the bond didn't try to kill them."

A yawn passes his lips as he settles back into the chair. "The house elves kept them fed, their special brand of healing magic used to prevent atrophy of the muscles so the moment they woke up, they could walk normally as if they had just woken from a nap."

A sigh escapes as he rubs his chest, feeling it tighten slowly, his time coming quickly. He looks around and meets the disbelieving eyes of the audience, a soft chuckle escapes him as he looks at his cane and smashes it against the floor, the jewel shattering and the marks vanish from his wrists. "Dobby, Lizzy." A couple of pops later and a pair of house elves are standing in front of him. "The wards are down, go collect them and bring them in." they vanish as he settles back, resting his chin on his chest, his breathing slowing before he jerks back to focus on the crowd as the popping starts, person after person arriving, Mothers, Daughters, Husbands, Sons, everyone thought lost to the living arrives into the room.

Everyone scrambles as they see someone close to them, forcing their way down to their loved ones. A soft smile that is only witnessed by one person touches Harry's face as he looks at all the reunited family members, that one person watched as his lips move quietly, the sound drowning out his words before emerald eyes shut for the last time, his body slouching slightly, his face relaxed.

Harry potter had moved on to his next Great Adventure, his wife waiting for him.


End file.
